


Patches

by hawkqirl



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, F/M, Fluff, Protective Frank Castle, Sleeping together woooot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkqirl/pseuds/hawkqirl
Summary: Reader patches up Frank after a night at "work".





	

“Goddamn it,” you heard a grunt at the front door and immediately knew who it was. You heard the door slam shut and then there was a crash. “Fucking _shit!_ ”

“Babe,” you called out, closing the book you were reading. “You okay?”

And then he finally stepped into the room, looking as beaten up as ever. Frank shrugged, setting his weapons down onto the counter as you stood up to go get what you called ‘the Punisher repair kit’, since regular first aid kits didn’t cover what he usually needed when he came home after a job. 

“Shoulda seen the other guy,” Frank chuckled as you sat him down so that you could fix him up.

“In the morgue?” you asked him and he gave you one of those classic Frank Castle smirks that turned your legs into jelly. He snaked his arms around your torso before he pulled you onto his lap. “Frank,” you grumbled at him as he did so.

“Yeah?” he asked and you looked at him, the rag you had pressed against his temple already turning a sanguine color. 

“You know _what_ ,” you told him. “I can’t patch you up when I’m sitting on you. I’ll probably just hurt you even more.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his strong arms moving to wrap you in his warm embrace. “Besides, it ain’t like I’m not used to gettin’ roughed up like this while cleanin’ the streets.”

You let out an unsatisfied huff. “I worry about you regardless.”

“And I appreciate that, sweetheart,” he told you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Good to know that _someone_ does.”

You flushed as you continued working on him as best as you could in such a close proximity. 

Frank had always been sweet to you, despite the things that he did and the lives that he had taken. 

You had met him on a random, regular, mundane Tuesday. You had been walking home from a day at work when you were nearly mugged – nearly. You would’ve been, and probably would’ve had worse been done to you, if Frank hadn’t been there to get you out of that sticky situation. He took care of the shitbag, out of your field of vision, as a courtesy to you, and had made sure that you had gotten home safely. 

After that, he just started showing up more and more and you came to discover more and more about him: who he was, why he did what he did. Sometimes, he’d come to your place looking absolutely wrecked, and you’d take it upon yourself to try to help him as best you could. After a while, though, you eventually started taking nursing classes online so that you could assist him even moreso. At some point, it started to show, as he discovered that you were suddenly adept at stitching him up and your hands no longer shook when there was blood literally gushing from one of his many wounds.

He had asked you when had you started developing skills like that? And the answer, of course, led to you sheepishly admitting that you were studying nursing tips so that you could help him whenever he needed it. You had told him that you didn’t think that he should be doing everything alone; that he didn’t need to carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders and brave it all by himself. You confessed that you wanted to help him in any way that you could, and if you could help him just by taking care of him when he’s hurt, you’d do it.

He had clearly been touched by what you had admitted. He had thought that no one in the entirety of the world cared for him anymore, that that ship had sailed long ago. To his surprise, it apparently hadn’t.

Before either of you knew it, he had been kissing you. It was like second nature; he hadn’t meant to do it (or maybe he had? He wasn’t all too sure, himself), it had just happened. It seemed like the right thing to do, and the both of you immediately knew that it was most definitely the right thing to do when you were forced to break away for air. The kisses eventually became more and more frequent, and they had eventually somehow sparked a relationship between the two of you that you had never thought would actually happen. You had thought that he’d be too broken up about his family forever, that he would never again give love another chance.

He had definitely surprised you, then, just as he still surprised you now.

When you had finished sewing two stitches onto a place above his eyebrow, and you’d rid him of all of the blood stains that he had been covered in, you asked him, “Have you eaten yet? Because I can go get something real quick-”

“I’m good,” he told you. “I ate before takin’ down that guy.” He rubbed your shoulder blades on your back and said, “But I _do_ wanna clock out with my girlfriend.”

It still made heat rise to your cheeks whenever he referred to you as “his girlfriend”. It all seemed so surreal, like it wasn’t actually happening. Like this was all a dream, and you’d be waking up before you knew it.

He leaned in and kissed you, then, his lips soft and gentle as they moved against yours. He felt safe. He felt warm. He felt right. He felt as though he would always be there; as though he would always take care of you, and he would always fight for you, no matter what happened. No matter what life threw in your guys’ way. 

“Okay, then,” you said once you broke away from the kiss. “We can do that, too.”

The both of you got ready for bed, going through the routines that you always did before you hit the hay, which included: changing into your pajamas and sleep wear, brushing your teeth, and fixing your hair so that it’d be easier to manage the next morning.

When it finally did come time for you to go to sleep, Frank got in first before pulling you down on top of him, your body pressed against his toned and muscular one. One of his hands went to your hair, while the other held you in place on your back, keeping your body pressed as close to him as it possibly could. 

You hummed a contented sigh. This was how the two of you always slept, with you on top of him, and him below you. When the two of you had slept together the first time ever, he had pulled you in to an embrace much like the one you were currently in. You had been flustered, shy and anxious, attempting to squirm out of his grasp. He had just held you tightly there, not moving a muscle as he gave you a lame excuse about “preserving bed space”. You’d immediately known that that was a bold faced lie, but you didn’t call him out on it, instead complying with him and remaining like that, on top of his body.

Eventually, he had confessed to you that he did it because if he was able to hold onto you like that at night, with you wrapped in his arms like a human teddy bear, it was a reminder for him that you were real – that _this_ was real. A reminder that the happiness he was getting from being with you was real. A reminder that maybe, just _maybe_ he deserved someone as amazing as you despite all of the shit he did and all of the shit that he has yet to do. He had also even admitted that your warmth was like a protective shield for him; as though being with you made everything alright. 

Of course, immediately after all of that, he had then lamely tried to cover up the gushing confessional by saying that he could protect you better if he was watching you and was in constant contact with you, but you were able to see through him. Frank may’ve been a murderer, he may’ve been complex, difficult, misunderstood, and hard to relate to, but underneath that gruff exterior was still sensitivity. He was sensitive, and vulnerable, even if he tried to cover it up with the arrogance and swears and violence. 

He was so many things all wrapped in one, and you truly believed that you had hit the jackpot in finding someone as stellar as he was.

You lifted your head up and gave him a tender kiss on the lips; one of love, and concern, and, of course, happiness. He reciprocated the kiss without a second thought, wrapping his arms around you just a little bit tighter.

When you finally did break away, you were smiling like a giddy schoolgirl experiencing love for the first time, and you nuzzled down into his shoulder. “I love you,” you told him, as you always did every night.

And he said it right back.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, please leave comments below!


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